


all we had burned on the pyre

by fugues



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Gen, spoilers from the summaries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 15:19:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fugues/pseuds/fugues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s hard, remembering things two ways. Remembering things the way they were, the way they should be, and then again the way they are now. But he has to get used to it, doesn't he? There’s nobody left but him that remembers.</p>
<p>Except maybe it's not quite just him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all we had burned on the pyre

**Author's Note:**

> for a prompt on the fanworkathon; "yuuma's not the only one whose life has been heavily influenced by the kamishiros. with no trace of them left, what becomes of iv?"
> 
> i'm so sorry.

It’s hard, remembering things two ways. Remembering things the way they were, the way they  _should_  be, and then again the way they are now. But he has to get used to it, doesn’t he? There’s nobody left but him that remembers.  
  
(he can’t forget either, as much as it hurts, because if he forgets then Shark and Rio really are gone forever)  
  
He’s not World Duel Champion. Not much of anything, really, because the pendant sits lifeless on his chest and, sure, Yuuma can duel now - Yuuma can duel well enough to duel  _badly_ , because he has to. Because nobody expects him to be good at all. Not without Astral.  
  
 _Couldn’t you have appeared some other time?_  he finds himself thinking,  _Was it so important that it be against Shark? Wouldn’t some other duel have done?_  
  
There’s no answer, of course. In that other time, there would have been, but now there’s only the silence.  
  
It’s hard to piece together in his head the way things ought to be with the Barians. The...  _other_  Barians. Because he knows they can’t come back, yeah, he knows there’s the wall, but shouldn’t there have been all the things before? Maybe the others wouldn’t have come, without the Numbers, but shouldn’t there... shouldn’t  _Vector_ , at least, have still been around?  
  
(there’s a moment of loneliness that’s very nearly crushing when Yuuma realises that he half-misses even Vector in this strange, empty set of memories, because wouldn’t he be  _something_ , at least?)  
  
There’s nothing, though. Not of Vector, nor of any of the rest.  
  
He tries to find ways to at least see what everyone is doing now, but it’s hard. Hard to find reasons without the tournament - a front for the Numbers, wasn’t it, no reason for it without them - and so Yuuma struggles with it. Kaito he gets a look at once, out in the park with Haruto. V - although it wouldn’t be V now, would it? - is with the two of them.  _Good_ , Yuuma thinks, watching Haruto - Haruto who is pale and small but animated, at least - laughing between the two of them. Good that they’re all happy, that Kaito didn’t have to hunt Numbers and V didn’t want revenge and Haruto is healthier even if there’s still a little sickliness to him.  
  
(Kaito never wanted to hunt Numbers, Yuuma knows that, and so it’s selfish of him to cry in his hammock that night and wish that he had so that Yuuma could have his friend here, so that they could at least be two of a trio instead of only one, alone)  
  
Knowing that V is in Heartland makes Yuuma start to wonder about the others. IV isn’t Asian Champion, he finds when he digs. He’d gotten to the finals - as Thomas Arkwright, this time, not just a number, and with an unblemished face - say the news stories, and then something had happened but nothing Yuuma can find will tell him  _what_. IV had dropped out of the tournament unexpectedly, and all there is from then is speculation as to why.  
  
He wonders what it means, for IV to have dropped out of the tournament where he ought to have won, where Shark ought to have been disqualified and IV taken the title. He wonders whether he could find out, because if V is in Heartland maybe the others are too, but how is he supposed to get closer to them when there’s no reason for him to have met any of them now, the way the world remembers it?  
  
Perhaps, he realises later, he should have been paying more attention to the world as it is now in general, rather than only what he’s actively looking for.  
  
Still. In the end, it doesn’t matter, because an opportunity comes crashing right into him in a blue-lined shirt. He’d taken one of the corners in the corridors in a hurry, already late for class, and once he’s picked himself up from the floor he offers a hand to the person he’d crashed into, gets a good look at them and...  
  
Oh.  
  
III.  
  
Yuuma freezes up a little once III’s standing, goes to say his name but, no, it wouldn’t be right, would it? If IV’s not IV and V wouldn’t be V then he won’t be III, only Yuuma doesn’t have another name to use for him.  
  
Instead, in the end, he coughs more than a little awkwardly and tries, “Uh, sorry! Late for class, you know how it is! Uh, I’m Tsukumo Yuuma. I’ve... haven’t I seen you duel a couple times? We should duel sometime!”  
  
III gives him an odd look - not surprising, Yuuma can admit to himself, after that - but then smiles faintly and says, “A duel sometime... why not? I can get you back for knocking me over.” He laughs, a high little chime of it. “Michael Arkwright. And you, Yuuma, are going to to be getting more late by the moment.”  
  
He laughs again when Yuuma yelps at that, even when Yuuma nearly crashes into him a second time in his hurry to run past.  
  
They have their duel. Michael - and it’s hard to remember to call him that, rather than III - wins, and Yuuma laughs it off and stares at his cards and pretends not to see the combo that could have won it for him. It’s good though, he finds himself thinking, good for the dueling too that he’s making friends with Michael, who’s a good duelist and two years older and so it’s not surprising, really, that someone dueling him would start to improve.  
  
A couple weeks on, Michael - and he’s starting to get used to that, now - invites Yuuma over for the first time.  
  
He’d almost forgotten about IV, almost started to slip entirely into the way things are in this set of memories, until he gets there, takes two steps into the hallway and is very nearly bowled over by IV, who’s hurtled down the stairs and grabs at his hands with an exclaimed, “ _You_! It’s  _you_ , you’ll-- you remember, don’t you? You  _have_  to remember, they don’t but  _you_  will!”  
  
The world like this hasn’t been kind to IV, and it’s... painful to look at him, remembering the way he  _should_  be, with his bravado and his flashiness and his  _ore no fanservice_ , not... this. Not the wild, flashing eyes, or the gauze taped under one eye even though there should be no scar there, or the way he digs ragged, chewed nails into Yuuma’s hands even as Michael’s trying to guide IV away, apologising to Yuuma, telling him that  _Thomas-niisama isn’t well, I’m so sorry Yuuma he’s never been like this with anyone before..._  
  
“It-- it’s okay,” Yuuma assures Michael, which isn’t entirely true because IV has torn at his hands with those ragged nails, left little bleeding marks behind, but... it  _is_  true, he finds, where it counts. “It’s okay,” he says again, “I’m okay. Can I speak to him a minute? It’ll be okay, I think.”  
  
Michael looks worried. He doesn’t want to say yes, and Yuuma can see it, but his gaze flicks briefly down to the key - and Yuuma wonders, for a moment, if he remembers even a little, even if he doesn’t remember it like Yuuma, or like IV seems to perhaps - and he nods. He’ll be in the living room, he says, points to it and tells Yuuma he should come there afterwards.  
  
Once Michael’s gone, IV is grabbing harder at Yuuma’s hands again. “You do remember, don’t you?” he asks, barely a whisper this time. “You remember them? Ryoga? Rio? You remember, right? None of the others do, but you were closer. You had Astral with you and you were Ryoga’s friend, you were there when I dueled him and when I dueled  _with_  him and... you remember, right?”  
  
It’s a good thing he does, Yuuma thinks. To have to say no to that wide-eyed, hopeful stare would be awful. As it is, though, he can nod, can offer a small, hesitant smile and say, “I remember, IV.”  
  
Some dam seems to burst in IV at the confirmation, at the name that says it’s true, and then he’s clutching at Yuuma and he’s crying, great fat tears that roll down his cheeks and wet the gauze on one of them. “I knew you would,” he tells Yuuma, “I remembered doing all these things that never happened and they weren’t  _good_  things, they were awful but nobody understood how I felt about it because they didn’t remember me doing those things. It was like living two lives at once and I couldn’t remember which was which.”  
  
It had been different for Yuuma, he thinks, and maybe that’s the difference. Because he’d been given a ready-made set of memories and left this way, and maybe it’d been hard to differentiate between the two but that world had been in the past. There hadn’t been any more memories forthcoming with Shark, with Rio, with the other Barians. Living it day by day... he can understand how IV got this way.  
  
“It stopped one day,” IV is saying now, “It stopped a couple months back and I don’t... they went, didn’t they? You dueled Ryoga and it stopped. That was real, wasn’t it? This isn’t real, right? That is. That’s what was real. And then it changed and there was this, but it’s not  _real_...”  
  
He doesn’t know what to say to that. Because it’s true, what IV said, about him dueling Shark and things changing to be like this, but...  
  
“It’s real. I mean. Yeah, it wasn’t. But it is now. They really went.”  
  
It’s the first time he’s really said it before to anyone, though it’s not as though he could have told anyone but IV in the end. The first time he’s really admitted it to himself, though. That they’re gone, Astral and Shark and Shark’s sister and all the rest of them.  
  
(it hurts)  
  
IV crumples at it, crumples and drops to his knees the way that Yuuma’s finding he’d kind of like to right now. “They’re all gone, then?” he asks, face turned up toward Yuuma like Yuuma is the sun, like Yuuma will take it back and give him hope.  
  
Yuuma reaches down to touch absently at his deck box as he nods, whispers out a  _sorry_  when IV’s eyes well up again. And he is sorry. Sorry that they’re gone, sorry that nobody else remembers, sorry that he can’t offer anything more than that.  
  
He just doesn’t really have any hope left to give to anyone, anymore.


End file.
